


Three Conversations and an Affair

by Puzzlebox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Fluff, Guardian Severus Snape, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Homophobia, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Secret Relationship, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Severus Snape Lives, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18332087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puzzlebox/pseuds/Puzzlebox
Summary: Draco’s knuckles turned white around the stem of his glass. He took a deep breath. “So what are you going to do?”“Oh, God.” Harry felt his face turning pale, “I’m going to have to tell him, aren’t I?”Or: Three (moderately uncomfortable) conversations that Harry and Draco had with Severus about their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

It ended with a knock.

 

First there were lips on his neck and fingers fumbling to open his small shirt buttons and a thigh pressed precariously between his legs and suddenly, there was nothing but a waft of cold air. Draco careened off of him, sending a mostly-empty wine glass swiveling towards the lit fireplace. Harry sat up, gasping. 

 

“I thought you said he was out tonight?” Draco frantically whispered.

 

“I thought he was!” Harry shot back, equally as quiet, “I guess he-”

 

The knock again, but more impatient.

 

Harry shot up, managing to mostly fasten his shirt as he rushed to the door. He opened it halfway, blocking the man’s view of a very shirtless and very wanton Draco Malfoy.

 

“Hi. I thought you had a rush order to fill at the shop tonight,” Harry tried to catch his breath and look inconspicuous.

 

“Mrs. Pendleton cancelled her order,” Severus eyed him suspiciously, “I didn’t expect you to have already retired to your room.”

 

Harry’s mind spun as he tried to concoct a plausible story. There were two well known facts: Harry didn’t spend any time holed up in his room save sleeping (he’d had enough of being confined at the Dursleys), and it was far too early to go to sleep. 

 

Harry hesitated, then, “I wasn’t feeling well.”

 

Severus, being almost a foot taller, attempted to peer over his head into the dark room. Harry frantically pulled the door more closed, rendering him squished in the door frame.

 

Severus raised an eyebrow, “You missed a button.”

 

Harry looked down to see a gaping collar and-- oh, Merlin-- a hickey on his chest. He felt himself turn red as he pointedly looked anywhere except his guardian. So much for inconspicuous. 

 

“It’s fine. In fact, I appreciate you trying to spare us both this mortifying conversation,” Severus placated.

 

Harry’s eyes widened in shock, “Um- okay, great.”

 

“Unfortunately, your efforts have failed.”

 

Harry didn’t like where this was going.

 

“I expect you to be discrete and use protection.”

 

“Merlin.” Harry didn’t even attempt to disguise his embarrassed groan and grimace. He grit his teeth, “Yeah. Of course.”

 

“Yes. You’re only 19, so I’m assuming you don’t want any mini-Potters running around, causing chaos. I certainly don’t,” Severus drawled.

 

“Wait, what?” Harry was snapped out of his mortification by confusion, but his guardian was already walking down the hall.

 

“And Harry?” Severus called out, “I shall want to meet this girl in the morning.”

 

“What the fuck?” The words came out numb and to an empty hallway. He turned around, unfeeling, and softly closed the door behind him.

 

“Girl?” Draco looked just as confused, still sprawled on the sheepskin by the fire, “I thought he knew you were gay?”

 

“I thought he did.” Harry sat down next to him with a dull thud.

 

“Well did you tell him?”

 

“Um- no, but-”

 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Then how the fuck was he supposed to know?”

 

“He taught me Occlumency in fifth year, remember?”

 

“And what memory did he see, Harry?” Draco sounded accusatory, “I thought I was the first guy you were with?”

 

“You were- are, I mean,” Harry placated, “He saw my uncle accuse me of being a- um…”

 

“A what?” Now he looked halfway between concerned and angry, “What’d that fucker say to you?”

 

Harry winced, “Faggot.” The word felt ugly spilling from his lips.

 

Draco squinted, “What does that mean?”

 

“Is that not a word in the wizarding world?” Now it was Harry’s turn to look confused.

 

“Not that I’m aware,” Draco took a sip from his fortunately upright wine glass, “What does it mean?”

 

“It’s a derogatory term for homosexuals.”

 

Draco sneered, “Bastard.”

 

Harry snatched Draco’s wine glass and took a gulp, “Is that really not a thing in the wizarding world?”

 

“Definitely not. We don’t have any prejudice against gays unlike small-minded muggles,” Draco explained, “But that answers your question as to why Severus didn’t know you were gay.”

 

“Didn’t he grow up in the muggle world, though?”

 

“Perhaps, but only for the first 11 years, really.” Draco shifted towards Harry, stealing back his wine, “How old were you when you first learned that word?”

 

Harry thought about it, and then stopped thinking about it because the answer made him sad. “Young,” he answered, “Too young.”

 

Draco gently stroked the side of his downturned face, and Harry leaned into the touch. “I figured he must have known. I mean, he had to go through all of the memories so many times during the trial and to get instated as my guardian. And they called me that a lot growing up.”

 

Draco’s knuckles turned white around the stem of his glass. He took a deep breath. “So what are you going to do?”

 

“Oh, God.” Harry felt his face turning pale, “I’m going to have to tell him, aren’t I?”

 

“Well, I’d assume so,” Draco smirked.

 

“Oh God, Draco, what if he’s not okay with it? I was fine with him being my guardian but that was because I thought he knew and he was okay with it, but he doesn’t know, so what if he’s not?” Harry rambled.

 

“Hey, hey. Calm down, Harry. He’ll be fine with it, he was when I told him. Besides, that’s the easy announcement.” Draco mouthed at his earlobe.

 

Harry’s hyperventilation wasn’t helped as his breath hitched, “Oh yeah? What’s the hard announcement?”

“Telling him that his Godson is fucking his adopted son,” Draco smirked, “Or worse, that they’re in a committed, long term relationship.”

 

“He’s not my father, he’s my guardian,” Harry protested. 

 

“Oh, please, Potter. He’s your father.”

 

Harry laughed and threaded his fingers through Draco’s hair, “Do you really think he’ll mind?”

 

“Not as long as he gets grandchildren.”

 

Harry shot back with feigned irritation, “For the last time, Draco, he’s not my father.”

 

“Course not. I’m your daddy.” Draco had a cocky grin plastered on his face.

 

Harry scoffed and laughed, “Oh my God. Way to ruin the mood completely.”

 

“Oh I’ll get you in the mood,” Draco proclaimed before pouncing and tearing open Harry’s haphazardly fastened shirt. 

 

It begun again with laughter. 

 

 

Despite the impending interrogation that would surely take place in a few, scant hours over innocuous breakfast food, Harry slept and woke calmly. Most of this had to do with the pleasant warmth surrounding him, and the soft whistle-snore that was impossible to hear unless aimed directly in his ear-- in which case it was deafening. Harry shifted so Draco nuzzled into his neck instead, warm puffs of breath drifting on his collarbone. Draco’s arms tightened as he woke, pulling Harry impossibly closer.

 

“Morning,” Draco breathed, “What time is it?”

 

Harry scrambled for his wand on the side table, muttering “Tempus.” Harry glared at the time, “The time of reckoning-- Severus is up for breakfast by now.” Harry reluctantly got out of bed.

 

“No,” Draco whined, “Saturdays are for lie-ins and lazy morning sex. Come back-”

 

“Not this Saturday, remember? Severus wants to meet you.”

 

“Oh right, let’s go!” Draco sat up, looking giddy, “This is going to be so much fun.”

 

Harry nudged Draco back into bed and tip-toed over to the dresser, “You’re not going out there with me. I’ve got to explain things first.”

 

Draco looked scandalized, “Then how, pray tell, am I supposed to make my dramatic entrance?”

 

Harry just laughed, casted the appropriate cleaning charms, pulled on some clothes and bounded out the door without another word.

 

As always, Severus was taking his morning tea with fried eggs and hash, while pouring over a potions journal publication. He looked up at Harry’s loud arrival.

 

“Good morning, Harry. Please help yourself.” This was somewhat of a tradition. Since Severus had seen Harry’s complicated relationship with food and guardians, he had taken to formally welcoming him free reign of the spread at mealtimes-- every meal, without fail, for the last four and a half years. Harry smiled and took a seat.

 

“I’m assuming you had a pleasant night?” Severus’ attention was once again directed towards the paper in his left hand.

 

“Um- yes, I did.” Harry stuttered.

 

“And I hope you did not send this girl off already?” Severus intoned, “I did request to meet her.”

 

“Actually, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about...”

 

Severus made a noncommittal sound.

 

“See, the thing is-”

 

Harry was abruptly cut off as Draco sauntered into the kitchen-- the bastard. He must have gotten dressed immediately after Harry had left, and his entire outfit was assembled from Harry’s closet, all for the sake of a theatrical reveal. Harry, exasperated, shook his head at Draco, but all that managed to do was make him look more excited.

 

“Ah, Draco,” Severus smiled, a rarity reserved only for his Godson (and in rare instances, Harry), “I thought our appointment for breakfast was tomorrow.”

 

“It is.” Draco’s smile widened.

 

“Then, may I ask what you are doing here?” Harry knew that the question wasn’t an accusation, but he flinched anyway, eyes flickering between the two men whom he was situated between.

 

Draco meandered closer to the circular table, taking a seat, and promptly putting his arm around Harry, “I heard that you wanted to meet me.”

 

Severus blinked, coughed, and leaned back in his chair, the potions publication falling insignificantly back to the table. He glared at Draco’s arm that was possessively hung over Harry. No one spoke for a few moments.

 

“I see,” Severus said, his lips pursed, “and what exactly is this, between you two?”

 

Harry jumped at the chance to speak before Draco poisoned the well with more dramatics, “We’re dating.”

 

Severus looked unsettled, “and how, precisely, did this occur?”

 

Harry had a lurch in his gut when Draco opened his mouth again, “We you see, dear Godfather, when a man loves another man very much, they get a special feeling in their-  _ ergmermm! _ ”

 

Harry smothered Draco with his hand and managed to seem unperturbed when he responded, “We reconnected at the ministry. As an Auror-in-training, I observed a case that collaborated with the potion office of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.”

 

Severus just hummed, turned back to his breakfast and asked, “And how long has this been going on?”

 

Draco pried Harry’s hand off his mouth and intertwined their fingers, laying them on the table, “Six months.” He smiled, sickeningly sweet and aimed at him, but Harry knew it was intended to see if he could make Severus uncomfortable. Still, though Harry tried to look vexed, he couldn’t help smiling back, especially when Draco’s expression turned soft and genuine.

 

Severus choked on his tea.

 

“Well, you met the mistress,” Harry piped up, “Everything settled, then?”

 

“I suppose,” Severus grumbled into his potions journal.

 

Business as usual, then.

 


	2. Chapter 2

After the eleventh time rehearsing the conversation with Draco, it became abundantly clear that Harry needed to stop stalling and just speak to Severus. 

 

Thus, after his shift ended on Thursday, he didn’t floo out of the ministry, but instead walked towards Severus’s shop in Diagon Alley. Harry only vaguely heard the ring of the bell as he precariously opened what Harry affectionately referred to as  _ The Gates of Hell.  _ As always, the shop was left in a state of organized chaos-- but one that Harry couldn’t hope to understand. Caches of ingredients and finished potions were shelved in seemingly random order, at least to Harry’s ignorant eye. Unsurprisingly, Severus was not to be found among the stacks of potions research journals, so Harry ventured further, to the back room where his guardian spent copious hours brewing. 

 

Sure enough, Severus was bent over a cauldron which was bubbling and vividly violet in color. He didn’t look up from his work but called out, “Harry, I thought your shift didn’t end until five?”

 

That caught Harry off guard for a moment, “It’s 5:15.”

 

Severus cast a quick  _ Tempus,  _ “So it is.”

 

Harry took a shaky breath. Best not to delay, or he might chicken out, “I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

 

Harry didn’t know what he was panicking about-- he could have done this years ago, when he turned 17, so for all he knew, such a decision was well overdue, and Severus was just waiting for Harry to come to that conclusion for himself. Afterall, he was now officially an adult (20, though conceptually, he felt still too young and immature to make life altering decisions for himself). Regardless, it was time to inform Severus of his plans.

 

But if Severus was just his guardian, and he was just his ward, then what would happen to them if they suddenly became neither? What excuse would they have to see one another? Or, worse yet, what if Severus didn’t want to see him at all?

 

Harry’s swallowed against the panic in his throat, and quickly amended, “But if you’re busy, this can wait until tomorrow, or maybe next week or-”

 

“Now is fine.” Severus cut him off, “What kind of potions master would I be if I couldn’t talk and brew at the same time?” He began to dice a bundle of herbs rigorously.

 

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but nothing but air came out. After the extraordinarily long pause, Severus looked up, “What is it, Harry?”

 

“I’m moving out.”

The chopping stopped abruptly. Severus blinked, “What?”

 

Under different circumstances, Harry might have revelled in the fact that he was able to surprise Severus so much that it impeded his ability to brew, but instead, Harry waited on baited breath.

 

“I’m, uh, I’m thinking about moving out.”

 

“Is that so?” Severus began to chop with more fervor than Harry previously thought possible, “And are you aware it is typical for most wizards to remain at home until the age of 23? Or until marriage?”

 

“I wasn’t,” Harry was pretty sure the Weasleys didn’t follow that rule, “but we’ve hardly even been typical, Severus.”

 

“And what, exactly, brought this on?” Severus apparently deemed the chopping board of obliterated Rosemary sufficient, and in one graceful motion, dumped the contents into the steaming cauldron. 

 

“It’s not sudden, if that’s what you’re asking. But the reason I brought it up is because I think it’s happening soon.”

 

“Soon?” Severus glanced up, but his stirring remained consistent, “You’ve already found a place?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry jumped at the opportunity, “It’s a flat on the edge of wizarding london. It’s floo-able to the ministry, already has decent warding in place, and is walking distance from a lot of great muggle nightlife. Tall ceilings, large windows-- you should check it out yourself, it’s in a great area, the lower east side.”

 

“Lower east side?” Severus raised an eyebrow, “Real estate is pricy in that area, you won’t be able to afford it on just your starting Auror salary.” 

 

Harry winced, “See that’s the thing…”

 

“Oh, you want a loan? Well I suppose we can sit down and discuss-”

 

“No, I’m not asking for a loan. I’ll have help with the rent.”

 

“Oh, so you’ll search for a flatmate? I’m sure there’s plenty of suitable candidates, I can help you sort through applicants, if that’s what you’re-”

 

“There’s only one bedroom.”

 

“Then how, exactly are you planning on affording this?” He looked skeptic.

 

Harry blinked. “Severus, Draco and I are moving in together.”

 

As much as Harry wanted to read his reaction to the news, Severus’s head shot down towards his work table, busying himself with a jar of white powder. After Severus hastily added a pinch of crushed Murtlap, the potion turned a sickly shade of green, and when he looked up, the color was mirrored in his face.

 

Once again, Severus looked distinctly off-kilter, and a bit uncomfortable, “I suppose I should have assumed. You’ve been together, what, a year?”

 

“Just over a year, now.” Harry bit his lip.

 

“And what, exactly, is his mother’s opinion of this little plan?”

 

“She’s all for it, shockingly,” Harry smiled, “She won’t say it, but I think she likes me.”

 

“Are you sure, Harry?” Severus asked, and suddenly, it seemed as though he was asking about more than just moving out.  _ Are you sure about Draco?,  _ he was asking, which made the question exceedingly simple.

 

“Yes,” Harry replied, “I’m sure.”

  

 

Though he had been informed, it was still a shock when, a week later, through a wide-open door, he found Draco in Harry’s room, the two of them surrounded by Harry’s clothes and belongings, which had been slung haphazardly onto every surface.

 

“That’s it for winter clothes, right?” Draco asked, crouching over a hideous cardboard box.

 

“No, there’s still that jumper I got last Christmas,” Harry’s voice was muffled as he was half in the armoire, scouring.

 

“What jumper?” Draco tried to sound innocent, but sighed exasperatedly when Harry emerged victorious, waving the fashion monstrosity proudly above his head. “I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that, so I could burn it in secret.”

 

“Nonsense, Mrs. Weasley knitted me this.” He carefully placed it into the box, which was then closed with packing tape and banished by Draco, probably to their new flat. The realization went through Severus like ice: Harry was moving out.

 

The revelation was somehow made worse by the proximity. It was no longer an abstract concept, or something that Severus had stored in the back of his mind, knowing that it would happen eventually. Harry was moving out, right now. Today was the last day that he would consider home to be here, with Severus. 

 

Perhaps if he had paid attention during any of the recent conversations regarding the subject, he would have known that today was the move-out day; but, when it was brought up that Harry would soon be gone, he immediately tuned out, unwilling to face the notion of a empty house.

 

(If he had a time-turner to confront himself five years ago, the old him would never believe he was experiencing empty-nest syndrome due to  _ Harry Potter  _ moving out.)

 

He was brought out of his reverie by the horrifying sight of two men in love, who thought they were alone.

 

He coughed, pointedly, and the two sprung apart. Harry, at the least, had the decency to look properly shamed. Draco, however, only smirked at the sight of Harry’s blush.

 

“Harry,” Severus drawled, “Might I speak with you in the study for a moment?”

 

Harry nodded, a hand still over his mouth, and tip-toed over the mélange of his possessions on the floor. He swivelled before stepping out of the room to give Draco a truly stern look, “No burning the clothes you don’t like while I’m gone, right?”

 

Draco smiled, teasing, “Come back soon, yeah?”

 

Harry laughed and followed Severus as he led him down the hallway.

 

“So,” Severus said, and was unsure how to continue.

 

“So,” Harry parroted awkwardly.

 

And given that there wasn’t any indication on how to continue, Severus bent down to his lowest desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. Harry’s eyes widened, “I didn’t know you kept that there.”

 

“Rarely used, but it seems appropriate tonight, no?” He poured a fifth each into two crystal tumblers.

 

“I guess so,” Harry taking a glass, “This is uncharted territory for us.”

 

Severus grimaced and took a sip.

 

Harry looked confused, “Are you upset?”

 

Severus had thought that Harry couldn’t be any stupider than during his first few Hogwarts years, “Of course I’m upset. You’re moving out, am I supposed to be happy?”

 

“I’d just thought…” Harry shifted in his seat, averting his eyes.

 

“What?”

 

“I thought you might be pleased that I’d finally be out of your hair.”

 

“Pardon?” Now Severus was upset.

 

“You never really wanted children, and I’m incredibly grateful that you raised me, but it’s not as if you really  _ wanted- _ ”

 

“What could have possibly given you that idea, Harry?” Severus put down his glass on the desk, “You know that I care for you, don’t you?”

 

“Oh,” Harry brows pulled together, “I’d just assumed that you’d done it out of obligation, you know, because of my mother.”

 

“Perhaps, in the beginning,” Severus admitted, “but now I view you as my own, Harry.”

 

“I suppose that means you want me to visit?”

 

“No, what I want is for you to never move out,” Severus joked, “but I suppose visiting will suffice.”

 

“I was worried, you know,” Harry looked down, “that once we weren’t guardian and ward, we’d be nothing and you wouldn’t want to see me.”

 

“A ridiculous notion, Harry,” Severus took another sip of his drink, “I take that as an indication you want to visit?”

 

“Brunch along with Draco?” Harry offered.

 

Severus nodded, “And dinner once a week.”

 

“Agreed,” Harry proclaimed, and clinked their glasses together, in a gesture of a bargain well struck. Harry drained his glass, stood abruptly and said, “I’d better get back, before Draco burns my Chudley Cannons t-shirt.”

 

“You should let him,” Severus called after him, as Harry waltzed out of the study. He heard a laugh echo from down the hallway, and then Severus finished his drink in silence.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Simply unacceptable," Severus admonished as the waiter laid down their main courses, "Harry is tardy by more than a half hour."

 

"About that, Severus."

 

Severus regarded his dining partner and the empty third seat with suspicion. 

 

"Harry isn't coming, is he?"

 

"No, he has an evening shift. He doesn't get off until midnight."

 

"You should have told me, Draco. We could have rescheduled."

 

"It.. wasn't an error. I arranged this dinner tonight,  _ because _ Harry is at work. In fact, he doesn't know we're meeting at all."

 

"And you're keeping secrets from your beloved boyfriend, why exactly?"

 

Draco took a deep breath, "I wanted to ask you a question."

 

For the first time that dinner, Severus spotted Draco's shaking hand as he fiddled with his cutlery, the Pallor of his face, and his nervous expression. His heart simultaneously pounded in his ears, sped up, and dropped to his stomach. Where was a calming draught when you needed one?

 

"Dear Merlin," Severus gasped, "are you ill? How bad is it?"

 

"No! I'm fine-"

 

"Is Harry ill?"

 

"No, it's nothing like that, I swear."

 

"So your mother is-"

 

"Still puttering around, redecorating the manor for the 50th time, and hosting tea parties every afternoon."

 

"Oh thank Merlin-- you nearly gave me a heart attack."

 

"I'm sorry for frightening you. I suppose I went overboard with the dramatics. It's good news, I swear. Well I hope... I suppose it could be horrible news for you but I'm really rooting for the opposite because-"

 

"Oh, spit it out, Draco," Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a swig of his wine, "it can't be worse than what I've just suspected."

 

"I want to ask Harry to marry me."

 

Severus choked on thin air. A few minutes ticked by after Severus had recovered, which Severus spent burrowing his brow, and Draco spent absolutely shitting himself.

 

Finally, Severus responded, "and how does your mother feel about this proposition?"

 

Draco seemed to breathe again.

 

"Are you kidding?" Draco laughed, "she adores Harry almost as much as I do. When I asked her for the family ring, she already had it in her pocket-- bow and box and everything."

 

"That sounds like Narcissa," Severus cut into his steak, "but what exactly are you trying to ask me?"

 

"Your permission, of course," Draco smirked, "Harry and I may be slightly unconventional, but it is pureblood tradition to negotiate with the bride's father."

 

Severus snorted, "For one, you should never tell Harry what you just said if you want him to marry you. Secondly, it's my understanding that usually the groom's parents negotiate on his behalf."

 

"I thought a muggle spin on the tradition might be appreciated by Harry-- asking for the father's blessing directly."

 

"Yes, but I'm not Harry's father."

 

"You're an idiot if you still believe that load of utter crap."

 

Severus raised his eyebrow, "Aren't you supposed to be vying for my blessing?"

 

"I already know you'll give it."

 

"Awfully arrogant to assume that, Draco," Severus leaned in, "now why would I allow an arrogant man to wed my son?"

 

"Because you love him, and you want to make him happy," Drago swallowed, "and Merlin knows why, but he loves me, and I make him happy."

 

Severus frowned, "Perhaps, but-"

 

"If you say no, I'm still going to ask him anyway."

 

Severus feigned shock, "After all of this talk of tradition?"

 

"Well, tradition started our relationship, I thought it would be romantic to propose in the same way," Draco swirled his wine, "but really, Severus, it's the 21st century. He's not property to be bargained for."

 

"I'll admit the last thing I want is details about your love life with my son," Severus interjected with candid curiosity, "but what do you mean 'tradition started our relationship?'"

 

Draco looked unfazed, "I courted him."

 

"You did not." Severus's eyes were wide and incredulous.

 

"I did. I courted him."

 

"And Harry let you?"

 

"I'm not going to lie, it took convincing."

 

"He's as stubborn as his mother."

 

Draco laughed, "That's an understatement. When we first saw each other after the war, I was enamored, and he was disturbed. I flirted shamelessly-- asked him out to dinner. He said no-- point blank, eyes full of terror."

 

"And?"

 

"And... I knew I needed a different approach. I sent him dragonhide gloves, ancient texts on defensive magic, homemade treacle tarts, with love note after love note." Draco sighed, wistfully, "I arranged romantic, exciting afternoons, all while keeping a respectable distance. I suppose if I were being strictly traditional we would've had a chaperone-- but that would have been insulting."

 

"And?"

 

"And, it worked. He fell in love with me, and because it was a courtship, the responsibility to respond was on him." Draco smiled, "it took months, but it was worth it. I was so besotted by him-- I still am."

 

"Two and a half years later," Severus looked contemplative, "and for how long do you think that'll last?"

 

"Forever? Longer? I know it sounds cliché, but that's the way it feels."

 

"Pureblood families don't base matches on feelings."

 

"Muggles do, though," Draco pleaded, "and it's  _ better.  _ Who gives a damn about bringing honor to my family? That ship has sailed. I never thought I'd be able to be  _ happy _ . I never thought I'd be allowed."

 

Severus sat again, slowly slicing off pieces of his meal, thoughtfully chewing, and not saying a word. 

 

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime he looked up, "Marrying Harry certainly wouldn't hurt your family's reputation."

 

Draco slammed his fork down, "I love him, Severus, I haven't given any thought to any other factors because they don't even register as factors to me."

 

Now Severus looked uncomfortable, "I'm well aware that you love each other, but you don't seem to be a suitable match in any way."

 

"I've dated a few people before Harry. A couple of them I thought I loved," Draco responded, "all of them were what my family would consider suitable matches."

 

"And?"

 

"And when I started seeing Harry, I realized just how wrong I was about all those other people. I wasn't in love-- I didn't even know what love was. With Harry, everything was bigger, brighter. I kept expecting it to wear off eventually, but it never did. I've never been more happy in my life."

 

"And is that a strong enough foundation for marriage? Happiness?"

 

"If you're truly worried about our compatibility, you shouldn't be. It's okay that we're different-- better actually."

 

"How so?"

 

"I think my more cautious attributes have been a good influence. He hasn't done anything truly reckless as an auror in over a year, now," Draco paused to politely scarf down the rest of his tortellini before it went cold, "I think it also helps him knowing that there's someone who loves him at home. I suppose he's always had you, but it's different."

 

"True."

 

"Meanwhile, Harry's made me a better person in every way, shape, and form."

 

"That doesn't seem like an equal exchange."

 

Draco adopted an uncommon sickly sweet expression, "To my credit, it's hard to improve Harry. He was already an almost perfect person before we started dating." 

 

Severus, despite trying valiantly to hold it back, made a face of mild disgust, "How on earth did you go from hating each other at Hogwarts to becoming so lovesick?"

 

"Nonsense! We didn't hate each other at Hogwarts!"

 

Severus scoffed, "You heathens went to fisticuffs when regular duels weren't satisfying enough. What else could it have been?"

 

Draco smirked and declared airily, "I prefer to think of those days as a healthy outburst of gay panic."

 

"Merlin," Severus hid his face with his hand, choking back a horrified laugh, "alright. So how are you going to do it?"

 

Draco looked flummoxed, "Do what?"

 

"Propose?"

 

"Does this mean I have your blessing?"

 

"Of course you do Draco, I just wanted to make you work for it."

 

When Draco couldn't contain his smile, Severus continued, "I thought you were going to propose whether you got my blessing or not."

 

"Yes, I would. But I'm glad to have it all the same. Thanks, Severus."

 

"So, answer my question, Draco," Severus said lightly, "how are you going to propose?"

 

Somehow, Draco went from rosy excitement to pale panic in an instant. Severus grinned.

 

"Oh Merlin," Draco took a deep drink from his wine glass, "I hadn't thought about it. I didn't think I'd get this far."

 

"You just spent this entire dinner explaining how well you know Harry," Severus placated, "how would he like to be proposed to?"

 

Draco's eyes went wide as saucers, "How am I supposed to know!?" His breathing quickened, "Oh Merlin, what if I do it wrong and he dumps me?"

 

Severus smirked and drank his wine.

 

______

 

It was a month later in the late hours of the night when Harry Floo-ed into his study, hair disheveled and face beaming.

 

Before Severus could ask what had possibly occurred to make him leave his flat in such a state, Harry practically tackled him into a hug. 

 

"What's going on?" Severus choked out.

 

Harry released him stepping back a few scant inches, "Draco proposed!"

 

"And you said…?"

 

Harry wordlessly held up his left hand, which was sporting a rather large diamond and silver spectacle, engraved with the Malfoy crest. Severus felt his eyebrows raise in disbelief.

 

"That is quite a piece of jewelry."

 

"I know, it's too much, I told Draco so, but he said it was important to him that I wear the Malfoy family ring and so I don't really mind as much," Harry stopped for air, "can you believe it, Severus? We're getting married!"

 

"I was wondering when he'd ask you," Severus smiled, "how'd he do it?"

 

"Oh it was perfect, he cooked for me this candlelight dinner and right before dessert, he just got down on one knee and told me that he was in love with me and that he wanted to marry me and-- Merlin Severus-- I wasn't expecting it at all, it was so rom-" Harry cut off abruptly and eyed his guardian suspiciously, "you knew?"

 

"He asked me for my blessing about a month ago."

 

Harry positively melted, cradling his ring clad knuckles to his chest, "He did?"

 

"Indeed, he did. A week later he called Floo-called to tell me that he had gotten the Weasley's approval as well. I'm surprised that none of them ruined the surprise for you."

 

"So you approve then?" Harry looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, "you're happy we're getting married?"

 

"He makes you happy, Harry," Now Severus felt emotional, "that makes me Happy. Now run along, go back to celebrating with your new fiancé."

 

Harry beamed, enveloped him in a slightly less assaulting hug, and Floo-ed out of his house in a whirlwind of excited energy. 

 

Severus settled back into his armchair, sipped his scotch, and braced himself for the upcoming chaotic and heavily publicized wedding.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the end of Three Conversations and an Affair... Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


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